not yet, brave ones
by Kairaita
Summary: AlbatRossRuki - It's just the difference between who we were then, and who we are now. Part 2 spoilers.


_~not yet, brave ones~_

_From the end, you know the beginning._

* * *

When his vision finally focused, he almost immediately went cross-eyed again, looking up the length of a sharp, silver sword pointed downward at his throat. At the end of that sword—

"…Who are you."

A statement, not a question.

Alba blinked, mismatched eyes wide with brief surprise, and smiled at the figure standing above him: shorter, smaller, different clothes—a tattered brown cloak, a symbol burnt onto a round piece of wood hanging from a length of frayed string—than he remembered and knew, but painfully familiar all the same.

"That's a secret… Creasion."

Vibrant red eyes narrowed dangerously, even as the shimmering blue flame sitting atop limp spikes of black hair flared as if in response.

"Are you another one of his demons?"

"I'm not your enemy. Please believe me." Slowly, cautiously, Alba clambered clumsily to his feet with his gloved hands raised. The point of the sword followed him up, still mere centimeters from his neck. Alba paid it little mind however, and directed his gaze forward, sweeping the ends of the ragged black cloak he wore aside. "I'm a magician."

"Liar."

"Ahaha, you caught me."

The same voice, but edged with suspicion and cold antagonism. The same face, but pale with lines of visible exhaustion. The same eyes, but outlined with dark shadows and glaring with frigid distrust—almost like a proud, cornered animal refusing to show weakness. Yet behind the barrier of wariness, Alba could see it.

A sort of helpless despair.

"…I'll play along," Creasion said flatly at last, after a long moment of silence. "You haven't tried to kill me yet." He lowered the sword, dismissing the blade into thin air with an easy flick of his hand, and Alba let his own hands fall to his sides with a sigh of relief. "A magician, huh?" Creasion scoffed a little, a contemptuous sound that made Alba wilt. "You're weird."

Alba simply smiled. "I've heard that before."

"What do you want?"

"Nothing at all." He followed as Creasion turned and began to walk away. From behind, the boy's posture was different from what he remembered too. Not yet a soldier's proud stance, nor the easy lightness of a free man. Creasion walked with the stride of a person in chains with nowhere else to go but forward.

And yet, despite everything, it was as if he refused to turn his back on the world.

"So? What are you doing?"

Night. In the clearing of a thick forest, they sat across from each other against tree trunks, separated by a small, crackling fire. Creasion turned an expressionless gaze at Alba, the color of his eyes nearly blending into the flames. "You've been following me all day. Are you some sort of stalker?"

"That's mean!" Alba yelped.

"I don't know your name, where you came from, what you're doing here, or why you seem to have magic, but you know who I am," Creasion shot back. "And your face is weird."

He had to concede the point. "That's true," Alba murmured. "Except for that last part! But I have my reasons."

"And?"

"Hehehe. That's a secret."

Creasion's face scrunched in a frown. For the first time, he looked like the child he was, and Alba could not suppress a small laugh.

"I don't want anything." He stood up and crossed the clearing to Creasion's side, bending down so that he was at eye-level, red and black meeting red and red. "I can only be here for a little while though, so at least, I'll tell you why I am." Unconsciously it seemed, Creasion shrank back, his left hand curling into a fist.

"What are you talking ab—"

"I'm going to make you a promise."

Creasion stared in confusion for only a moment, before his expression became hard. "I don't need something like that," he hissed, turning his head away. "Especially not from some stranger." The ever-present blue flame shivered slightly.

"Then, how about this?" Alba stretched a hand out to Creasion's head. The boy flinched almost violently when his fingers made contact, tensing even as Alba ran his hand over the strands of black hair in a smooth, soothing gesture. It must have been a long time, Alba thought, since anyone had done this.

"If you let me make that promise, I'll grant your wishes."

There it was. Only a flash, but it was there. A brief flash of hope in Creasion's wide red eyes at those words. Ah, he really is just a child after all, Alba thought sadly as the guarded expression returned almost immediately. A child who had endured a lot of hard things, and who still had a long way to go.

"…There's no way you could do that," Creasion muttered, pushing Alba's hand away. Nevertheless, Alba winked playfully.

"I'm a magician, remember?" He snapped his fingers; just for a little while, at the very least, he could let Creasion rest. A dreamless sleep, without having to worry about demon lords or monsters or questions without answers just yet. "I'm not lying this time," Alba said softly, watching as Creasion's eyelids lowered tiredly. "Not about this. Someday, your wishes will be granted. I know it. So until then…"

Promise me that you'll live.

It would seem like a long, long time. An endless amount of time. But time always had a destination. And someday, you'll be a legend. Someday, people will tell stories of how you saved them. Someday, one day, you'll be someone's dream, someone's goal, someone's _hero_. And when that day comes, one day, you can go on a journey again, in a more peaceful time, and you'll find what you're looking for. On that day, someday, you'll finally be happy again, because you are the beginning of everything.

These were all the things Alba did not say.

"…Ha." Alba jolted—he had not expected Creasion to still be awake, eyes glassy with drowsiness, but awake all the same. "I don't… need a promise to do that." His voice rang, heavy with sleep, but as clearly as a bell. "I can't die yet."

Strong. So, so strong, that it made Alba's heart ache.

There was despair, certainly. But more than that despair, there was a beautiful sort of determination.

So Alba smiled again, watching the boy's head drop down onto his knees at last, listening to the quiet sound of steady breathing, and gave one last pat as he stood up.

"See you soon. Good night."

* * *

When the world stopped whirling once more and Alba could stand up without falling over from dizziness, it was the sobbing he heard first.

He resisted the urge to call her name, instead swiveling his head back and forth and straining to locate the source. In the dim, deserted castle he found himself in, the sobs echoed endlessly around, ringing from everywhere at once.

But there. A faint aura of magic emanating from a corner. He made his way towards it, the sharp clicking of his boots cutting through the crying. Abruptly, it stopped.

"…Papa? Mama?"

A flash of pink appeared at the corner of his eyes, along with the sound of running feet and an excited exclamation. "Papa! You're…"

Alba turned then, the ragged black cloak resting on his shoulders flowing with him as he faced the girl. "I'm sorry," he said softly, feeling his stomach twist into knots at the thought that he had gotten her hopes up so. "I'm not him."

The third generation Rchimedes glared with all the force she could muster at Alba—an expression he had never seen directed at him before. It clashed with the rest of his memories, all the memories of a laughing, smiling, cheerful little girl who had such strength in her own way. The girl before him now scrubbed furiously at her face, frantically wiping away tears, and spoke in only a slightly quavering voice.

"This… This is the castle of the Demon Lord Rchimedes. Who are you?" she demanded.

Alba let a secretive smile slip onto his face. "I'm a magician," he replied lightly.

Rchimedes—no, still Ruki, even now—blinked in surprise, and attempted a scowl. Such an expression did not belong on her childish features. "A-A magician?"

"That's right." He took a step closer to her, the cloak rippling in waves as it trailed along the ground. Ruki seemed momentarily mesmerized by it before she snapped her gaze back to Alba. He stopped in front of her and crouched, reaching a finger out to brush away a stray tear on her cheek. "Why were you crying?"

Her lower lip quivered. "I… I…"

"It's okay, I'll keep it a secret."

"…Because Papa and Mama aren't here, anymore," Ruki whispered shamefacedly, sniffling gently. "I'm… I'm not strong enough to be the Demon Lord yet, even though I've been reading a lot, a lot of the books."

"And?" Alba prompted, reaching both hands out to grasp her tiny ones. "That's not the only reason, right?"

Tears welled up in Ruki's eyes. "And… And… I'm lonely…!" She gave a little gasp as the words slipped out, and ran into Alba's open arms, sobbing desperately into his shoulder. He embraced the shivering little figure, patting her back with all the comfort he had ever known and listening silently, painstakingly, as the weeping gradually quieted. Faster than he thought she deserved.

"You don't have to be lonely right now," Alba whispered playfully into her ear. Ruki lifted her head, revealing watery but curious eyes. "I'm here, aren't I?" There was a slow nod.

How many times had this empty, dismal castle echoed with her crying, even as she laboriously strived to keep the place clean by herself? How many times had the books been splattered with her tears, even as she pored over them in her best efforts to fulfill a role that had been given to her much too soon? Far too many, Alba thought, and he squeezed her shoulders.

"It's okay," Alba continued, a hand drifting up to pat her head. Small black wings twitched at the motion. "You'll be okay, because someone is always out there. So don't cry anymore… Ruki."

Surprise flitted across her face. "Why… do you know my name?" Not the title that now burdened her shoulders, but the name given by those who loved her.

He poked her nose, smiling as she giggled, just a little. "Because I'm a magician."

"Hee, so you are."

"Right?"

They looked at each other and burst into small fits of laughter, filling the castle with the bright sound like there could never be darkness.

At last, Alba stood up, gazing down at the girl. Still so young, yet so strong, but a smile suited her best after all. "Soon," he said quietly, his heart beating fast, "Very soon, you'll meet a lot of important people. They'll be a little silly, a little confusing… Some of them will be weak, and some of them will be really strong. But all of them are very, very kind."

Innocent eyes shining with awe returned his gaze. "How do you know?" Ruki whispered, the wings on her head fluttering slightly with anticipation and perhaps, for the first time, with hope.

He brought a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture, winking. "Because I'm a magician."

Another bubbly giggle escaped her. "A magician…"

"I came here to grant your wishes." He repeated the words that he had told someone else, a thousand long years ago. "But to do that, I need you to make me a promise. Can you do that?"

"What is it?"

"You have to live, okay?"

Those were the real magic words. A promise from, and for the future.

"I'm sorry that I can't stay very long," Alba said, a lump in his throat as he watched Ruki's expression turn downcast, but understanding. "But your wishes will definitely be granted. When you meet those important people, you won't be lonely anymore. And they'll help you. They'll help you, because they're kind." His lips quirked into a half-smile. "Maybe you'll even call them your heroes."

"Heroes…" Ruki echoed in wonder.

Alba beamed proudly. "That's right. So until then, you have to live. Until then, be brave. You can do that, can't you? Promise me?"

"I promise!" Ruki exclaimed earnestly, fervently, throwing her short arms around his neck. She was shaking again, but there were no tears. "I promise! I promise…"

"Good." He disengaged himself gently from her grasp, reaching down one last time to ruffle her hair, and smiled. "Well then,"

"I'll see you soon."

* * *

The world whirled into existence for a third time, a familiar place, and Alba laughed.

How strange, that it was only now he could remember.

When he was young, he had always been a crybaby. Prone to tears at the slightest fright, unable to go anywhere without his beloved stuffed bear. Always needing his mother's hand whenever he so much as walked down the street.

And one night in particular, he had had a nightmare. He remembered it vividly even now: searing pain like a blade across his midsection, the sensation of flames eating away at his limbs, an aching feeling in his chest for something that had been lost.

Perhaps it had been a premonition.

At that time, Alba had woken up with a jolt, more shocked than anything. But then the tears came; quiet sobs into his pillow, desperately squeezing Kumacchi, and dawn had seemed an endless lifetime away.

He remembered now.

At that time, he had met a 'magician'.

"W-Who're you?"

The moonlight spilling into the small room illuminated the bed, casting Alba's shadow against the wall as he smiled at his younger self. "I'm a magician."

The younger Alba squeaked with alarm and dove into the blankets, becoming a trembling lump beneath them. At length, a head of brown hair poked out, two black eyes wide with simultaneous fear and curiosity. Alba could not help but laugh again, at his smaller counterpart, this unreliable, cowardly, lovable child. How he had ever been like this, Alba could imagine perfectly.

"You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

A frantic nod.

"It's okay now, it was just a dream." He waved his hand through the air, as if shooing something invisible away. "You don't have to be afraid of it now."

Placated for the moment, young Alba crawled out of his blanket nest, sitting next to his older doppelganger on the edge of the bed, and they watched the moon move across the sky in companionable silence.

"…You have a lot of things you want to be, and a lot of things you want to do, right?" Alba spoke suddenly, turning a bright red and black gaze at the child seated beside him.

"Mmhm!"

"Since I'm a magician, I can grant those wishes, you know?"

"Uwaah, really?"

Such a trusting, clear gaze that was returned to him. "If I grant those wishes though," Alba continued, ruffling his younger self's hair, "I need you to make a few promises."

"What kind of promises?"

If it was 'himself', surely, he would do his best.

"First," his voice rang with heroic authority, "One day, you'll go on a journey. It'll be fun, and exciting, because you'll meet a lot of different people, see a lot of different things. And those people… are very important. They're your invaluable, irreplaceable friends."

"Friends…"

"Second, no matter what, always follow what you believe in."

A journey would have a lot of confusing paths, and decisions. Because it was 'him', there were undoubtedly times that he would get lost. Yet he had to keep walking forward, step by step, fighting for every stride. And that was okay.

Because he had done the very same thing.

"Last, you have to be always, always be kind."

You'll meet a lot of important people, so you have to protect them. You'll find out there are a lot of things you don't know about, so you have to learn them. You'll do a lot of things, so you have to live.

"That's a lot to remember," young Alba mumbled dizzily, tilting his head.

Alba laughed. "It's okay, you can take it slowly. Don't rush it. But, do you promise?"

"Yeah!"

"That's good."

The future is a bright, warm, happy place. Along the way, there are some sad things, some painful things, some hard things, and all of them together can be a lot. To say that it won't be difficult is a lie. Before you get to that bright future, there are a lot of difficult things you'll have to live through.

But even so, you'll live.

The words that Alba couldn't say caught in his throat. Without a doubt, 'he' would live and struggle and laugh and cry together with many, many people, because he knew all this and more.

After all, who better to tell 'him' than himself?

"It'll be okay. When you wake up, it'll be like a dream," Alba said softly, patting the head of his younger self who was beginning to yawn sleepily. "And you'll make it real. Don't worry, you can do it," he added, pulling a blanket over the child, and stood up, looking nostalgically around the room.

"So good night, and good luck. I'll see you someday, hero."

* * *

The whirling sensation caught him for what he knew was the last time, and Alba tumbled onto fresh grass with an alarmed yelp. He lifted his head to survey his surroundings, only to feel a foot slam his head back to the ground.

"…Hero. Just what did you think you were doing."

A statement, not a question.

"Really, Alba-san! We were so worried!"

A high voice sounding close to suppressed sobs, but not quite.

Alba laughed, even as he tasted dirt in his mouth. The foot lifted and he rolled onto his back to stare up at a blue, blue sky, the black cloak fanned out beneath him. Two faces appeared from above in his vision, one scowling, one anxious.

And Alba said, simply, "I met a magician."

Sion and Ruki's expressions went blank with surprise. "I think he was pretty cool," Alba added playfully, stretching his hands upward. Sion and Ruki caught his arms and pulled him to a standing position. Their hands were warm.

They looked at each other, then back at Alba, and said in unison—

""He's not as cool as I remember.""

"Hey!"

Ruki giggled, a clear sound like the ringing of bells. Sion only smiled, just a little, before a small chuckle spilled out as well. And Alba laughed again, as if there could never be sadness as long as they were here.

"You kept your promise, Mr. Magician," Ruki said cheerfully, tongue-in-cheek.

"It was just like you said. Well, it _was_ hard to believe though." Sion added, but the look in his eyes was sincere.

Alba smiled at them. "I'm glad you kept your promises too."

It was because of all of them, that they could smile like this now. It was because they had all tried their best to live, that they could see this now.

With each other, the future was certainly a very bright place.

.

.

.

_If this was what it felt like, if he could call this being "in love"—_

_Then he never wanted to stop._


End file.
